


I Wanna Be Drunk When I Wake Up

by AShortInfinity



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunk Tony, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortInfinity/pseuds/AShortInfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark gets drunk. A lot. And Steve starts to take notice, but when he offers Tony help, he finds out how much Tony is really hurting inside.<br/>And also how much he really wants to sleep with Captain America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Be Drunk When I Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> So I wasn't intending for there to be many different kinds of drunk Tony, but I actually kind of like it. It shows the different sides of him.  
> BTW when it says "___ prior", it means prior to the opening scene. I didn't know if that was clear or not...  
> Also, Thor is in this one, and I suck ass at writing how Thor talks. It's probably the cheesiest garbage you will ever read and I apologize for that.  
> Enjoy?

“Tony…” Steve warned quietly, propping himself up on his elbows and looking up at the shadowy figure at the foot of his bed. “You know you’re drunk, right?”

“Probably,” Tony murmured, setting down the whiskey bottle and moving the outlines of his arms to become one with the outline of his chest, and there was the sound of fabric being moved around and then tossed onto the floor. “But this is a different kind of drunk for me. The kind where I’m brave enough to do this but sensible enough to know I want to.” The sound of his belt unfastening echoed in the room. “So is tonight going to be like all the other nights, Captain?”

Steve swallowed dryly and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. If he could see Tony’s face, he knew his eyes would be dark. The shadowy figure lowered himself onto the bed, crawling over Steve’s body until he was pinned against the mattress. Steve had never felt so vulnerable in his life, and his heart was beating at what had to be a lethal rate. He knew he had the power to stop this; if he said that he truly didn’t want this, Tony would understand. He had understood the other nights, for the most part.

“Got something to say, Cap?” Tony asked, his voice husky and the stench of whiskey on his breath washing over Steve’s face, but all Steve could focus on was this raw, muscled, near-god of a man towering over him, waiting for him to say that he _wanted_ this, that he _wanted him_.

And Steve desperately wanted to say that they needed to keep this professional, that they could only be friends because of their job or that he didn’t have feelings for Tony or _anything_ that would’ve gotten him out of this situation, out of this sense of helplessness and inferiority and sudden self-consciousness that he hadn’t felt since before the serum.

Steve opened his mouth, everything he was supposed to say clogged at the back of his throat.       And something must’ve happened that took the sensible Steve out and shoved someone else in, because there must be some explanation for why Steve looked straight into Tony’s dark eyes and replied, “Areyou going to take my shirt off or do I have to?”

* * *

*Two weeks prior*

* * *

Stark was notorious for throwing flamboyant parties; they were almost as famous as his Iron Man suit and as infamous as his tendency to be a little bit of a playboy. Generally he saved the grander parties for after taking down large enemies or finally finishing a mission they had been working on for quite some time.

Which shouldn't have made this party any different. They had just taken down Ultron, everyone was tired but relieved, and it seemed as if the killer robot from hell had never interrupted their last party. Of course, Tony had invited a lot more people this time, and was practically drowning himself in liquor.

Which is what caught Steve's attention, after Natasha pointed it out.

"Have you seen Tony tonight?" She asked, sidling up next to him and purring in a way that only she could do.

"With all these people here it's a miracle I've seen half my teammates," Steve admitted with a smile, leaning over the railing and looking out on the main floor that was currently packed with nameless bodies.

"Hm," Natasha swirled the drink in her hand, also looking out on the people. Steve could sense that she was tense, and he glanced over at her.

"Everything alright?"

Natasha looked at him, and had this party been the one after they had taken down Loki and his army, Steve would've assumed nothing was wrong. But the two had become a lot closer since discovering their separate involvements with…the Winter Soldier. Steve fully trusted Natasha with his life and his secrets about Bucky, and in turn he knew she trusted him in the same manor.

And because they had grown so close, he knew she was holding something back. And generally she didn't restrain herself, so something was definitely up.

"What is it?" Steve asked lowly, turning to give her his full attention.

Natasha waited a moment before turning to look at him and said, "Tony has gone through an entire bottle of whiskey in the past hour alone, and I don’t think that’s all he’s had to drink."

Steve stared at her, his skin crawling at the thought of all that alcohol in anyone’s body, even if that someone already had a high tolerance for it. He grabbed his jacket to go look for Tony and stop him from drinking himself to death when Natasha put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and stared him straight in the eye to say,

"Be gentle with him."

Steve hesitantly nodded and turned to hurriedly walk down to the main floor, hoping he looked relatively normal so as not to set off any false alarm. People were ramming up against him and rubbing body parts with him that he preferred didn't rub, and finding Tony in this throng of bodies was proving to be a lot harder than he thought.

"Hey-o, Capsicle!"

Steve turned around and relief washed over him; Tony was standing in front of him, swaying from side to side, being held up by the half dozen women he had hovering around him and giggling constantly.

"Tony, I was just looking for you," Steve began.

"Aw ladies you hear that? Captain America, the First Avenger, needs me! Needs lil ol' Iron Man!" He beamed, and took a big swig of the vodka bottle in his hand, nearly falling down in the process.

Steve caught him and gave him a stern look, removing the vodka bottle from his weak grasp and setting it down behind him. "Tony, you're drunk."

"A very perceptive observation. Girls, this guy right here," Tony jabbed a finger into Steve's pectoral, "this guy is the true genius, am I right?"

They all giggled and agreed and Steve apologized to them as he began dragging Tony away. Tony started babbling nonsense about how fascinating alcohol is and the many effects it has on the body, making as many sexual innuendos as the poor man could manage.

"I think it's time to put you to bed," Steve sighed, trudging up the stairs.

"Captain America taking me to bed?" Tony snickered. "Honestly I always pictured it the other way around."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Steve grumbled and realized his dragging method was not working. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he threw Stark over his shoulder and continued up the stairs.

"You know, the human body is incredible," Tony slurred. "We can do so many amazing things and people don't even realize it! Did you know that if humans tried, we could easily…"

Steve rolled his eyes and tuned Tony out, looking around for Tony's room. He then remembered that it was the furthest from the stairs at the very back of the hall—probably because Steve could never have it easy—but his arms and back were getting tired, especially since he hadn't fully recovered from fighting Ultron. Thankfully his room happened to be miles closer, and he figured he could just sleep on the couch that night, as long as Tony was alright.

"...and just think about how we sexualize everything, isn't that weird? But so necessary for humans, seeing as it's uncontrollable, and actually quite amusing as well."

And with that closing statement, Tony pinched Steve's butt.

Steve went completely rigid and all but threw Tony onto his bed. His cheeks were burning, but luckily the room lights were still off, and the only source of light were those of New York city, shining through his window like they did every night, and they didn't provide enough energy to show the Captain's most likely scarlet face.

"That was fun! Again, again!" Tony cheered, sitting up and clapping his hands like a ten year old that hadn't just been tossed ten feet.

"What the hell was that Tony?!" Steve asked incredulously, rubbing his backside. Tony looked at him innocently and he added, "Why did you pinch my butt?"

"There are actually a number of completely viable answers to your question," Tony stated like the smartass he was. "Would you prefer the one that involves a talk about the birds and the bees or—this one is my personal favorite—an in-depth explanation of one's sexual attraction to another explained scientifically through pop-up books?"

Steve stared at Tony—ignoring the shudder that ran through his body when the words "sexual attraction" left the other man's lips—and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He went to his bathroom and got a cup of water, bringing it back to Tony who drank it gleefully, only to look sad to discover it wasn't alcohol.

"Why did you carry me away from my party again? Don't get me wrong, it was very heroic and a valiant display of your masculinity—and who doesn’t love feeling Captain America’s rippling muscles beneath them—but I don't think being the first one to bed is considered very hostly."

Steve sat down on his bed next to Tony and began taking off his shoes. "Because you were drinking your entire stock of alcohol, and that's also not very hostly."

Tony frowned. "Well it is _my_ alcohol, so if anyone should be allowed to drink it, I believe I have first dibs."

Steve glanced at Tony, at the neon lights dancing across his face, and the man seemed…old. It was true that he did have a few years physically on the Captain, but mentally he just seemed drained. And if Steve thought about it, he could probably see that this drained expression wasn’t exactly a new look for the billionaire.

"Is everything alright, Tony?" He asked quietly, though loud enough that he could still be heard over the dull roar of music beneath them.

Tony hardened his face, ashamed to have let his mask slip, and offered his signature grin in reply. "I'm in Captain America's bed, how can everything not be alright?"

Tony flung himself back and rolled around in the large bed. Steve stood and sighed.

“I know you're lying," he said sternly. Tony paused his childish antics and lay completely still with his back towards Steve. "I don't know why you've chosen to almost drink your life away tonight, but it was enough to worry Natasha and me. I knew you had problems with alcohol, but Jesus Tony, this is something else entirely."

There was a long pause before Tony sat up, his back still towards Steve, and began saying slowly, "You know wanna know why I drank as much as I did tonight? I was hoping I could drink away the memories. The memories of...of him. Of Ultron." He turned to face Steve, his jaw set and his eyes somewhere between overwhelming anger and crushing sadness. "I made him Steve. Me. No one else is to blame for the lives he claimed but me. Look at Wanda. How can I ever hope for her to forgive me for what happened to her brother? He’s dead because I was reckless. And I just...I wanted to forget that it was my fault, for just one night. I wanted to...to be able to sleep—"

The last couple of words came out choked off and Tony looked away, covering his mouth. Steve had never seen him like this, exposed and vulnerable. There was always another joke to be made, another jab at someone, even if that meant himself. But this wasn't a joke anymore; it was far beyond that at this point.

"You can't possibly take all the blame," Steve said softly, lowering himself onto the bed next to him. "Tony...we all had a hand in this. I know why you thought the world needed this, and if I had been in your shoes..." Tony looked at him and Steve placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one blames you for this, not even Wanda, so you shouldn't either."

Tony met Steve's eyes and they stared at each other for a moment that stretched out a lot longer than was necessary, but neither seemed to notice. Not until Tony leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Steve's lips, whispered a "Thank you" immediately after, and then passed out on the bed.

Steve was still blushing hours later when he carried Tony to his room.

* * *

 *One week prior* 

* * *

“Do we ever celebrate birthdays around here?” Tony asked randomly after a grueling day of training, when everyone had showered and was hanging around the TV channel surfing.

“Are we allowed to is the real question,” Clint snorted. “Isn’t that against S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol or something?”

“I don’t even know anyone’s birthday,” Bruce added. “Hell, I hardly remember my own.”

“We should change that,” Tony grinned. “Big party tonight, invite all your friends and neighbors, because we’re going to blow the roof off this joint.”

“Tony, I think we’d rather just relax tonight,” Steve said.

Tony stared at him and shrugged. “Well you can relax, I’m calling the strippers.”

Clint cheered and Natasha threw a pillow at him. Everyone retreated back to their own rooms and got dressed in something more suitable for a party. Steve was attempting to figure out how to work a tie when he simply gave up and threw it on his bed with a huff, rolling up his button-down shirt sleeves and adjusting his belt.

There was a knock on the door and Tony walked in.

“Are you actually inviting strippers?” Steve asked warily, not taking his eyes off his reflection.

“Well, I was getting changed and thought to myself, ‘Sexy, this should be a formal party that everyone will enjoy.’ So no, I will not be, sorry to disappoint Captain.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “You call yourself ‘Sexy’?”

“It’s hard not to in this suit,” Tony grinned, looking at his own reflection in Steve’s mirror. Steve did have to admit that it was a nice suit; a dark grey with a maroon tie that paired nicely with his dark hair and tanned skin. “If you keep staring at me, I’m going to blush.”

Steve quickly looked away and bit back his own blush while saying, “Sorry.”

Tony chuckled and patted his shoulder, exiting his room with Steve in tow. The two joined the others back in the main space, and it wasn’t long before other guests arrived. It was a smaller party than last time, thank God, but with enough people that it could still technically be considered a party rather than some random get-together.

About an hour and a half into the party, when Steve and Sam were in the middle of a very heated game of pool, Natasha walked up to the table and watched them shoot for a few minutes. Steve knew instantly, however, that she wasn’t there to just watch.

“How’s it going, Black Widow?” Sam asked with a wink.

Steve could’ve laughed; the poor guy should learn who to flirt with and how to smoothly.

Natasha smiled coyly like the innocent girl she was and replied, “You two are about the most entertaining thing at this party, sadly.”

“I’ve always considered myself an entertaining person,” Sam chuckled.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you go get us two more beers, Sam?”

“But I’m talking to the pretty lady—”

“I know, I’m saving you,” Steve grinned, pushing him towards the bar.

Natasha sidled up to Steve like she did at the last party and sighed. The two stood in silence for a moment until she finally said, “He’s at it again.”

“Tony?”

“The one and only.”

Steve shook his head. “How bad is it?”

Natasha sipped the martini in her hand before answering, “He started a drinking game, and it was innocent enough, until—I think—he intentionally started losing just to get the alcohol. So it didn’t seem like he was trying to drink so much.” Natasha glanced at him. “What happened last time? I thought you would rejoin the party, but I didn’t see you the rest of the night.”

Steve felt heat rush to his face and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…it ended up being that Tony’s in a lot worse shape than we thought.”

Natasha stared at him and downed her drink. “No more parties for a while, then.”

“I agree.”

Steve left in search of Tony, and instead found whatever drinking game Natasha had been talking about. Clint was there, now the center of attention actually, and was doing shots like nobody’s business. Steve walked over and rested a hand on Clint’s shoulder.

“Have you seen Tony?” He asked.

Clint laughed, causing the rest of the group to laugh. When he settled down to just giggles, he answered, “The old man is barfing his brains out in the bathroom. He had a little too much of everything if you know what I mean.”

Everyone started laughing again and Steve rolled his eyes, heading for the only bathroom on the main level. He knocked timidly on the door, and heard retching sounds from inside along with a weary voice telling him to go away. Steve sighed and opened the door, relieved that Tony hadn’t locked it.

Tony was hunched over the toilet bowl, his face sweaty and practically green. Steve frowned and grabbed a towel, wetting it in the sink and pressing it to his forehead. He put Tony’s hand on the towel to keep it against him before running to get a cup, fill it with water, and bring it back to him. Tony accepted it gratefully and drank it all in one go. He tossed the cup aside and flushed the toilet, leaning against the wall and looking like he was ready to crawl in a hole and die.

“Tony…” Steve began slowly, but the other man shook his head.

“I know I fucked up Steve, but that’s all I ever do: fuck up. There’s just…I’m never good enough, you know? I wasn’t good enough to make my dad proud of me, I wasn’t good enough to run this company, I wasn’t good enough to keep Pepper with me…I’m just a fuck up with a lot of money who talks a big talk but doesn’t _do_ anything, you know?” Tony shook his head again and buried his face in his arms.

Steve stared at Tony for a long moment, unsure of what to say or do, until he sighed and put an arm over his shoulders. “Let me help you to bed.”

Tony nodded and stood, and Steve supported most of his weight as they walked up the stairs. Steve led him to his own room this time, and helped him inside to make sure he wasn’t going to vomit all over himself. Steve got him another glass of water and sat on the bed.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Tony, but…I think you’re right.” Tony glanced up at Steve, confused. “You’re right that you weren’t good enough for your dad, because your dad kept comparing you to the idea of Captain America, the perfect soldier, but you aren’t a soldier, you’re an independent genius. You aren’t good enough for your company because your company is just a side job now. You’re Iron Man! Who needs your damn company when you go out and save the world every day? And Pepper? Well…the easiest thing to say is that you two just weren’t good for each other, and I personally feel sorry for her.”

Steve smiled and Tony stared at him. They sat like that for a moment before Tony leaned forward and kissed Steve like he did just a week ago, but this wasn’t an innocent peck; Tony was pushing into the kiss like there was no tomorrow. Steve sat stunned for a moment before placing a hand on Tony’s cheek and returning the kiss gently. After a little while of sitting there kissing, Steve felt something wet on his thumb, and opened his eyes to see that Tony was crying. He pulled back, concerned, but Tony shook his head, grabbing a fistful of Steve’s shirt.

“I need you, Steve,” Tony pleaded, his eyes wet and his lip trembling.

Steve frowned. “Not right now, you don’t.”

Tony shook his head vigorously and kissed Steve again, more harshly this time. The force pinned Steve against the wall and it took him a minute to collect himself, where he pushed Tony off of him gently but firmly. Tony reached forward with shaky hands and started unbuttoning Steve’s shirt, but he simply put his hands over Tony’s and looked at him with soft eyes.

“Tony, stop,” He mumbled softly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He growled. “I don’t deserve your pity.”

“You deserve more credit than you’re giving yourself,” Steve said, squeezing Tony’ hands. He looked back up at Steve, as if pleading with his eyes to let him have his way. Steve stared back at him and brushed his lips against Tony’s forehead, murmuring, “Not now, Tony. You need sleep.”

Tony sighed and leaned his head on Steve’s shoulder. “Damn you.”

Steve smirked and helped him take off his shoes, suit jacket, and tie. He didn’t seem bothered by sleeping in the rest of his formal attire, which worried Steve with the thought that he’s done this before. After getting him another glass of water, Steve turned to go when Tony grabbed his wrist.

“Will you…” He cleared his throat and looked away, forcing out, “stay…with me?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, and a snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it, and chose to lie down silently next to the billionaire. He cautiously put his arm around Tony, who smiled and very quickly afterwards passed out. Steve lay there for a while, watching the rise and fall of the man’s chest and his not-so-steady breathing, and he retracted his arm, placing one final kiss on Tony’s temple before silently exiting the room and returning to his own.

He ran into Natasha down the hall, who raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

“Tony’s broken,” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “He’s broken bad.”

Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but seeing the state that Steve was in—somewhere between exhausted, depressed, and lonely—she decided better of it and simply nodded in response. Steve dragged himself to bed and didn’t bother changing; instead, he collapsed on his sheets and didn’t move until morning.

* * *

 *Three days prior* 

* * *

“Guys we should do something tonight,” Tony groaned after an increasingly boring week of not really doing much because no one happened to be destroying/trying to enslave the world, which was always a good thing, but gave way to the Avengers being momentarily out of a job and bored out of their minds. “Especially since Thor is in town.”

“He’s in England with Jane,” Bruce corrected.

“Well at least he’s on planet,” Tony muttered. “We hardly see that guy anymore! Let’s call him up, have a night on the town, do bro stuff.”

“Glad to know I’ll be included,” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You count as a bro, too. Just…a sexier one that can easily kill us all.”

Natasha smirked at that, and Steve frowned, saying, “No, we aren’t going out on the town. That usually implies drinking and you’ve had enough of that these past two weeks.”

Tony pouted. “You’re no fun…”

“What about a game night? Or movie night?” Clint grinned. “Thor always got a kick out of our ‘Earthly entertainment’.”

“Excellent plan,” Tony nodded. “I’ll call him up right now.”

“Tell him to invite Jane!” Natasha added as he walked away. “I need another girl here.”

“You know Agent Hill is a lot closer?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yea but she’s like a female Coulson; all work and no play.”

Bruce snorted and Tony walked back, announcing that Thor would arrive in about an hour and a half with one Jane Foster. Clint immediately leaped up to go rummage Tony’s movie collection as well as see if the old man had any games appropriate for everyone while Bruce decided to make popcorn and gather snacks with Natasha, leaving Steve on the couch to peruse files about suspects on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s watch list and Tony to clean up as best as he cared to.

“Do you ever take a night off from work?” Tony asked, nodding towards the files.

Steve shrugged, turning a page. “I like to be prepared.”

“You’re too tense. You should let me take you to a massage therapist I know. I swear on my life that woman has secret powers.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks, but no.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. “I’m assuming you’ve never had sex.”

Steve blushed and glared at him. “Seriously Tony?”

“What? I’m just staying that it’s obvious. Because if you did, you’d _love_ people touching you.”

Steve stared at Tony and watched him finish cleaning up the mess in the main space before muttering under his breath, “Never said I don’t love _some_ people touching me.”

“What was that, Captain?”

“Nothing, Mr. Stark,” Steve sighed.

He sat in that same spot until Thor arrived. He greeted everyone with his booming voice and roughly grabbing their hands to shake vigorously while slapping their shoulders like the old friends he claimed they all were. Not Natasha, of course, because she was a lady, and though he understood her dislike of the prejudice towards women in their particular field, he still insisted on treating her more kindly, which she didn’t seem too mad about. Thor also made sure that everyone knew who Jane was, introducing her to each person about four times before she finally told him to calm down.

Steve had to admit, Jane Foster was…smaller than he thought she would be. Thor towered over her, but he acted very protective of her and was very gentle around her, which Steve thought was the sweetest thing ever. If she asked for anything, Thor was right there to grant her every wish, and Steve could’ve laughed at how badly she had him wrapped around her finger.

Clint insisted on a Die Hard movie marathon, claiming that they were “timeless classics” even though he was the only one who thought so. No one was really paying attention though; Tony had managed to help Clint dig up some old board games he had stowed away from God-knows when, including Candyland, Clue, Monopoly, and various others. Bruce raised an eyebrow when he picked up Twister, and Natasha suggested he many not want to touch that. Tony glared at her but Bruce still felt the need to wash his hands. Twice.

One and a half Die Hard movies later (roughly equating to around three hours), everyone decided they were bored of the kids games—mostly because Thor didn’t get any of them and had thrown a game board more than a few times—and had moved on to cards, which the god understood a lot more than anything else.

“We have games of betting in Asgard as well,” He boasted. “Though one bet with food or riches or wom—” He glanced at Jane, who was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, and let the rest of his unspoken sentence hang there.

“Oh these chips have tons of value,” Tony warned. “Earthling money; the most dangerous kind there is.”

Thor looked confused but Hawkeye just patted his back and shook his head. It was a very heated game, and though Tony wanted it to be strip poker, no one besides himself and Natasha was comfortable with it. Everyone had been drinking that night, and Steve watched Tony carefully to make sure that he didn’t have more than two glasses. He was currently sipping his first.

“Why does this foul liquid please you mortals?” Thor asked, wrinkling his nose after gulping down his glass of vodka. “It burns unpleasantly and does not satisfy my taste.”

“Because humans love to get drunk,” Clint chuckled, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

Thor beamed. “Oh, you enjoy the revels of a zesty drink! Fortunately, I do happen to have some of my own. Now this is not as strong as what the Captain and I shared previously, but it was specifically created for Asgardians, who I am certain have a higher tolerance for just about anything when compared to humans.”

“Is that a challenge?” Tony asked with a wicked grin.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re not having any,” Steve said sternly.

“Excuse you, mom, but you are living under my roof, and if I damn well please to have a drink, you can bet your sweet apple pie I will.”

“Tony—”

“Let the man celebrate, Captain!” Thor laughed. “He is grown enough to make his own decisions, is he not?”

Steve frowned but didn’t stop Thor from pouring some of his weird greenish liquid into Tony’s glass, who swirled it around a bit before downing the whole thing. The entire table watched him, but he merely shrugged and chuckled. The game of poker resumed, but they could only play one round because Jane, unfortunately, had to return to England, and seeing as Thor was her ride, he had to leave as well.

After that is when things started getting a little bit weird.

It wasn’t particularly that late, at least not for the Avengers, so they continued playing cards until Bruce decided to retire. Then Clint was browsing through the movies and saw that Tony had karaoke and immediately challenged him to a sing off, and Steve and Natasha made the horrible mistake of letting them go through with it.

Three songs later, Clint had a terrible sore throat that Natasha used as her chance to escape by offering to help him—which should’ve been a red flag to Clint, but he seemed to be in too much pain to notice—and Tony kept going strong with Steve struggling to hold it together. It wasn’t that he was a horrible singer…he was just horribly drunk. Again.

“Damn Thor,” Steve muttered, and finally got up and unplugged Tony’s TV.

“Hey what did you do that for, I was on a personal best!”

“Tony, it’s karaoke; nobody wins at karaoke.”

“You were just getting too turned on by my singing, huh?” Tony grinned smugly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“That’s where you come in.”

Steve took a deep breath before approaching Tony and helping him back up to his room, where he sat him down on his bed like all the other nights and fetched him a glass of water, though he was skeptical as to whether or not water worked on Asgardian alcohol or not. Tony looked at the water for a moment before throwing it aside with a childish grin.

“Tony, you need to drink that!” Steve sighed.

“I don’t want that,” He said lowly, “I want you.”

Steve blinked and looked at him, and Tony wrapped his arms around his neck and dragged him onto the bed. Steve attempted to pull away, but Tony flipped them over and kissed him hard. It was hard for Steve to not just go with it seeing as kissing Tony made him feel like he could fly and having him sit on his chest was oddly really hot, but he knew it wasn’t right. Not while Tony was drunk.

“Tony, stop,” Steve grumbled, wiggling himself out from underneath the man.

“What, Cap? Going too slow for you?” Tony chuckled and moved his lips down to Steve’s neck and collarbone, which knocked the wind out of Steve in an erotically new way that he really didn’t want to stop, and it took all his will power to push Tony away.

“Stop doing this, Tony,” He said firmly. “Stop forcing yourself on me.”

Tony frowned. “Oh, like I’m really forcing myself on you, Captain. Like you aren’t enjoying every second of it.”

“I’m not,” Steve lied. “Not when you’re like this.”

“Like what? Drunk?” He spat, and turned away from Steve. “You’re becoming a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Seriously? You have the audacity to call me the pain in the ass?”

"You’re damn right I do!” Tony yelled, standing. “I’ve shown you how much I want you and you just wave me off like I’m nothing. Do you really not care or is that just a charming personality trait that you picked up after being stuck in the ice for 70 years?”

Steve glared at him. “You’ve shown me how much you want me? Then how come you only show it when you’re drunk? So that if something actually happened you can pretend that it wasn’t really you? That you do a bunch of stupid shit when you’re drunk? That this time happened to be one of your teammates but this happens all the time? Don’t you dare say that you’re pouring your heart out when you won’t even remember this conversation in the morning!”

Tony balled his hands and turned away from Steve. “How come you don’t bring it up either? Maybe I’m just waiting for you to make the first move so I don’t get my heart broken again. You’re right; I won’t remember this in the morning. So I won’t remember you saying you want me too, so I won’t know to go for you.”

“Don’t play that broken record again, Tony,” Steve groaned. “We both know you’re Tony Stark: billionaire, genius, playboy, blah, blah, blah, and if there’s one thing I know about Tony Stark, it’s that he doesn’t hesitate to get what he wants.”

Tony turned back to look at Steve, and his eyes seemed so dead, so dull. “That’s what you don’t get, Cap; I know what I want, but every time I try to get what I want, something bad happens, whether to me or to somebody else…I hurt people I care about, and I do care about you, Steve, and a lot more than I should, too. That’s why I restrain myself. Because I don’t want us to turn into what me and Pepper are now: a faded memory of something good.”

Steve stared at him and took a step forward, but Tony retracted.

“I…I think you should go.”

Steve frowned. “Tony—”

“Go, Steve.”

The Captain hesitated before nodding slowly and walking towards the door, turning around in the doorway to see if Tony was sure, but he was already facing the other way with his head in his hands. Steve wanted to go back and comfort him, to sit and talk like all the other times they did, to have Tony fall asleep and Steve not feel guilty, but he wasn’t being given that chance tonight. Instead, he left, returning to his own room where he curled up on his bed and watched the sky change from dark to light.

* * *

 *Six hours prior* 

* * *

Tony and Steve had hardly spoken since that night. If they were in the same room, one would make an excuse to leave, or they would simply ignore each other. The rest of the team could tell something was off, but Natasha told the other boys to just let them work it out because they always did in the end, and this time wasn’t any different.

Except that it was. It was _completely_ different.

Steve knew Tony had been lying; Tony remembered everything from every single one of those nights. He remembered pouring his heart out to Steve, crying on his shoulder, going through shit with him that he never though he would, and he especially remembered their fight. About both wanting each other but neither acting. Steve didn’t know where Tony was at, and he figured Tony felt the same way about him, leaving them both confused and uncomfortable around the other.

It made Steve sad to see him, and to know they couldn’t be what they were.

But it had been a couple days since their last incident, and Steve figured that if they continued at the speed they were going, they would simply brush past this rough patch and forget all the encounters. All the talking and crying and laughing and kissing…but Steve mostly missed just being able to be normal around him. They used to have a dynamic with each other, always feeling like the other had their back, and now Steve was almost frightened to go into battle with him because he would probably be distracted half the time.

“Steve?” Natasha asked, sitting down on the couch across from him.

He looked up from the files he was holding, realizing that he had been on the same page for probably a long time, and closed it. “What’s up?”

She stared at him before asking, “Is everything alright between you and Tony?”

Steve tossed the files onto the coffee table and folded his arms across his chest. “Everything’s fine Natasha. We’ve never been better.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, I know you, even if you’d like to think I don’t.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Remember how I told you he was in a lot worse shape than we thought? How he’s broken?” She nodded. “Well…I think he broke me. Or us. If there ever really was an us. It’s really cliché to say, but we’re just not what we used to be, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m sorry that this is affecting the team.”

“Forget the team, Steve, we’re worried about you guys,” She sighed. “I had Clint talk to Tony, but he’s dead silent. Wouldn’t even look at Clint. I’ve seen Tony in some bad spots in his life, but this…this is different. Usually he bounces back quickly, or puts on his billionaire playboy façade and pretends that he’s fine. But he’s just hiding out in his workshop, hardly eating, probably never sleeping…what went on between you two?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t even know myself, to be honest.”

She nodded slowly and stood. “Well, whatever it is, you two should figure it out fast, because one of two things can happen: either Tony dies from locking himself up in that workshop with no food, or you decide you aren’t fit for this team and leave us, but either way we lose a member with the other not far behind, and the Avengers is not going to dwindle down to the scraps.”

Before Steve could respond, Natasha left the room. Steve got up as well, but stood there a moment, debating whether or not he should go check on Tony in the workshop or hold off. Tony was a stubborn bastard, but he was also too full of himself to left himself die. Steve could probably put talking to him off a few more days. And with that comforting thought, Steve returned to his room to attempt to catch up on the sleep he had been missing recently.

When Steve woke up several hours later, it was already dark out. He remained lying in bed, staring at his ceiling and wondering what he should do, when he heard something move from the other side of his room. He head shot up, and he saw a dark figure move towards the foot of his bed. The fluorescent lights of New York City caught on the figure’s face, revealing it to be none other than Tony Stark himself. Steve sighed with relief.

“Tony, what are you doing here? It’s almost midnight.”

“I haven’t talked to you in so long,” He murmured. “I miss you, Cap.”

Steve stared at him, and his eyes fell to the whiskey bottle half-drunk in his hand. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “When did you start drinking?”

“Around ten,” He answered quickly. “When I began to think of your face, and your touch, and your stupid perfection.” He paused and looked down at the bottle. “I told you that I drink to forget, and I wanted to forget you. To move on and just be professionals like good little adults. But you’re so engrained into my memory, from the moment I first saw you and every time I’ve looked at you for more than two seconds since. You’re…you’re a problem for me, Steve. A problem that I can’t just figure out in my workshop like I’ve been trying to do. You’re the type of problem that makes me question who I am with you versus who I am without you, and dammit, both of those versions scare me. Because with you, I’m happy and grateful and calm, and that’s everything against my nature. But without you, I stay this shell of a man, one that gets drunk every night to forget that he has feelings.”

Steve hesitated before asking softly, “Do you want to forget?”

Tony thought about it and replied, “No…I want you. I want you to show me this is right.”

“Tony…” Steve warned quietly, propping himself up on his elbows and looking up at the shadowy figure at the foot of his bed. “You know you’re drunk, right?”

“Probably,” Tony murmured, setting down the whiskey bottle and moving the outlines of his arms to become one with the outline of his chest, and there was the sound of fabric being moved around and then tossed onto the floor. “But this is a different kind of drunk for me. The kind where I’m brave enough to do this but sensible enough to know I want to.” The sound of his belt unfastening echoed in the room. “So is tonight going to be like all the other nights, Captain?”

Steve swallowed dryly and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. If he could see Tony’s face, he knew his eyes would be dark. The shadowy figure lowered himself onto the bed, crawling over Steve’s body until he was pinned against the mattress. Steve had never felt so vulnerable in his life, and his heart was beating at what had to be a lethal rate. He knew he had the power to stop this; if he said that he truly didn’t want this, Tony would understand. He had understood the other nights, for the most part.

“Got something to say, Cap?” Tony asked, his voice husky and the stench of whiskey on his breath washing over Steve’s face, but all Steve could focus on was this raw, muscled, near-god of a man towering over him, waiting for him to say that he _wanted_ this, that he _wanted him_.

And Steve desperately wanted to say that they needed to keep this professional, that they could only be friends because of their job or that he didn’t have feelings for Tony or _anything_ that would’ve gotten him out of this situation, out of this sense of helplessness and inferiority and sudden self-consciousness that he hadn’t felt since before the serum.

Steve opened his mouth, everything he was supposed to say clogged at the back of his throat.       And something must’ve happened that took the sensible Steve out and shoved someone else in, because there must be some explanation for why Steve looked straight into Tony’s dark eyes and replied, “Areyou going to take my shirt off or do I have to?”

Tony grinned and kissed Steve deeply, and this time, Steve didn’t feel guilty for kissing back. He pushed back against Tony, and the two lay there peacefully for a moment, relishing in everything they had to look forward to, everything that could come to pass because of that one kiss. It made Steve giddy, really, and he smiled against Tony’s lips, who pulled back quizzically.

“Are you smiling, Rogers?” He asked indignantly. “My kissing isn’t that laughable.”

“No, no, I’m not smiling about that,” Steve chuckled. “I’m just…happy.”

Tony nodded in agreement and resumed kissing Steve, trailing light pecks across his jaw and down his neck. He moved his hands up the man’s sides, shimmying his shirt farther up his body until Steve sat up and removed it completely. Tony continued kissing down Steve’s chest and torso until he came to the top of Steve’s sweats. He glanced back up, as if making sure that he really wanted to do this, and Steve nodded with a soft smile.

With newfound energy, Tony carefully removed Steve’s sweats and was surprised to find him with nothing underneath. Steve chuckled lowly and brought Tony up to his lips again, where their once sensual kiss turned a bit more steamy. Tony nibbled Steve’s lower lip, and when he gasped in surprise, he pushed his tongue into Steve’s mouth and grew hard at the moan that he felt vibrate through him from Steve. Tony nudged a leg between Steve’s thighs, rubbing against his hard length in the process, and grinned at the way he bucked his hips slightly in response.

Gently, Tony traced his fingertips down Steve’s front and drew circles in his hips. Steve groaned at how slow he was moving and Tony bit his chin, moving his mouth back down to Steve’s navel, where he nipped playfully until Steve was digging his fingers in his hair. Tony carefully judged how big Steve was, surprised but in an excitingly good way, and licked a stripe from his head to his base, nearly whimpering in pleasure at how Steve whispered, “Oh _fuck_ ”. He lined Steve up with his mouth and took him all in slowly, making sure Steve felt how deep he was going.

“Jesus Christ Tony,” He groaned, bucking his hips again.

When Tony took in as much as he could, he pulled back to the head, and then returned back to the base, bobbing his head slowly until Steve begged him to go faster. He tried to keep Steve’s wild hips down, but it did add a little fun to Tony’s end, including the profanities he had never heard spill from Captain America’s lips as he came in Tony’s mouth. Tony pulled back and licked anything left off his head, kissing his hips and torso and chest all the way back up to his mouth, where he let Steve taste himself on Tony’s lips. Steve gasped again and squeezed Tony tightly.

Steve then flipped them over suddenly, surprising Tony once again, and stared down into his face with a smirk. Tony raised an eyebrow, but Steve kissed him deeply to suppress any doubts. He then proceeded to search and find that one weak spot under Tony’s jaw that made his knees buckle and moans roll out of him. Steve worked that spot the entire time of pulling Tony’s jeans off, then rubbed himself against Tony through his boxers.

“Fuck Steve, you’re killing me,” Tony groaned.

Steve smiled and moved to nibble his earlobe as he skillfully discarded Tony’s boxers as well, then ran a thumb over Tony’s head gently, causing the man to arch his hips up into Steve’s hand. He chuckled and kissed Tony quickly before wrapping his hand around Tony’s length, pumping it slowly and torturously. Tony glared at Steve, who laughed and moved faster, to the rhythm of Tony’s rolling hips and low moans. When he clenched Steve’s shoulders hard, Steve knew he was right there, and whispered how hot Tony was underneath him, and all the things he could do to him in so many different positions, all the new things they could try that only made Tony cum harder.

Steve licked his hand clean afterwards and pushed his now sticky sheets off the side and onto the floor. Tony lay on the bed, his breathing slowly returning to normal, and he looked at Steve through low lids and a soft smile.

“I love you, oh Captain my Captain,” He murmured.

Steve chuckled and replied, “And I love you, my man of iron.”

“I think this solves our problem of avoiding each other.”

Steve nodded. “The team will probably still think something’s up.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

“Well now we’re both going to be disappearing randomly instead of just one of us,” Steve grinned wickedly, kissing Tony.

When he pulled away, Tony was still smiling. “You’re a minx, you know that?”

“Well you’re the one that assumed I was a virgin,” He answered. “You should go to sleep.”

“Mm, good idea,” He mumbled, laying his head on Steve’s chest with his arm around Steve’s waist. Steve waited until he heard his breathing go lax to finally look down at him. If Steve were being honest with himself, he felt scared. He didn’t know what lay ahead for the two of them, whether they would come out of this stronger or just more broken than before.

But he knew one thing was for certain.

Nothing else mattered more to Steve right then than the smiling, sleeping man in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if the smut was awkward...I feel like the situation called for it, but I don't typically write smut. I'm comfortable with it, I just don't think I do it justice. Also I felt like it was more of a romantic kind of smut time, if that makes any sort of sense?  
> Oh well, I still like it. Thank you for reading :)


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